


It's not a Pimp-mobile. She's a Lady.

by LizLovesLit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 01:23:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19121743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizLovesLit/pseuds/LizLovesLit
Summary: Things have been rough between them. Demon!Dean just about killed Castiel, the Seraph was excluded from Dean's choices regarding the Mark of Cain and now the Darkness roams the Earth. To top it off, Castiel's car has been dubbed the "Pimp-mobile". Castiel had been so excited to have selected a classic car Dean would approve of, only to be shut down yet again.----It's not what you asked for in an almost 2 year hiatus of me trying to write, but it's what the muse wanted. I haven't been myself, including not watching ANY of season 13 or 14. I'm re-watching season 11 and this coda for 11x04 just...wouldn't shut up. I hope you can enjoy! <3





	It's not a Pimp-mobile. She's a Lady.

 

“I do not understand why you and Sam have ridiculed my car.”, Castiel frowned, rolling away to face the wall. The rustle of the bedsheets seemed to echo through the room.

Shock worked its way through Dean’s system. He’d hurt his lover unintentionally. Again.

“Cas, I’m sorry.”, he scooted close behind Castiel to be the big spoon. “I’m sorry, honey. It was just so funny! I mean, the car has hydraulics! And anyway, you’ve got that whole ‘I’m in charge here’ vibe, I couldn’t help myself.”, Dean huffed light chuckles as he placed gentle kisses down Castiel’s shoulder. “You don’t need a car to win me over, Angel. I’m already very ‘Team Castiel’.”, Dean wormed in closer still, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s middle.

“I know, Dean. I...I just don’t think you understand. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. Go to sleep.”

 Minutes ticked by and Dean’s breathing evened out, leading Castiel into a false sense of security of his total privacy. Slow, hot tears tracked down his face before he sniffed and sat up to break away from Dean’s sleepy hold. The hunter immediately sat up and turned on the bedside lamp.

 “Cas. Hon. What’s wrong?”, Dean rubbed circles down Castiel's back over his white t-shirt. “C’mon man, you’re kinda scaring me here. Talk to me.”

 “I can’t, Dean.”, Cas started crying harder. Wiping roughly at his face he tried to retreat again only to have his arm grabbed keeping him in place. Dean grabbed the top sheet, gently wiping at Cas’ face, then leaned his head over to rest against the headboard as he kept rubbing firm circles.

“I try so hard, Dean. I try so fucking hard. It hurt that you laugh at me. I was excited about my car! It hurts that you keep finding new ways to push me to the edge of being close to you.”, he whispered harshly, still facing away and wiping at the wetness on his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Cas. Honest.”

“I know that. I know, I just can’t...I want to hide from you.”

“Don’t hide from me. Come here. Lay right here.”, Dean patted the space beside him and kissed the top of Cas’ head, tucking him close into his embrace. Castiel snuggled down into Dean’s armpit with his face and hand nestled over the hunter’s heart. Dean started playing lightly with Cas’ hair, humming lightly.

 “Tell me about your car, Cas.”, he said quietly.

 “I saw it and thought instantly of that show you made me watch...the one in Texas?”

 Dean paused, trying to remember. “Dallas?”

 “Yes. But this car is a year younger – I looked it up online. It is the 1978 Lincoln Continental Mark V diamond jubilee edition.”, Castiel whispered. His throat clenched tightly and he knew his tears were bathing his human. He could feel the slightly awkward dampness on the freckled skin he laid against.

 “She does sound like a lady. What else, Cas?”, Dean picked up his lover’s hand and rubbed his calloused one against it, palm to palm before twining their fingers together and kissing the dark mop of hair over his Angel’s forehead again.

 “I was pleased both headlights functioned properly and the paint was original. It was the first Ford car to utilize clearcoat. Did you know that, Dean? I thought you would think the beaded seat covers were decade appropriate. It smells like marijuana inside but I knew you have that pink canned foam cleaner in the garage.”, Cas gently squeezed his hand against Dean’s.

 “I can get that smell out easy.”, Dean nodded and continued to lightly pet Castiel's messy mop of chestnut hair.

 “It lacks the original umbrella but does have the cookbook under the passenger seat, and the console has room enough for your tape box.”

 “It has a cookbook? That’s a little weird.”

 “You like to cook. I thought it was an appreciable bonus.” Cas' tone and body stiffened slightly.

 “I bet the aspics will be lovely. Thanks, man.”, Dean laughed and brought their joined hands up, kissing the back of Cas’ hand soundly. “You get those white walled tires with her, or did you have to go get ‘em?”

 “She was ‘road ready’”, Cas’ fingers twitched and he lifted his chin proudly. “The Mark V Jubilee edition only came in two colors, and it has the original color matched master key.”

 

Dean’s heart swooped into his stomach full of butterflies when their eyes met. Gone were the tears, and Castiel looked like his confident (if slightly bitchy) self again.

 “No way. You’re shitting me.”

 "No, Dean. I farted. I would never shit in our bed. That’s disgusting.”, Castiel tried hard to maintain a somber facial expression but Dean’s voracious laughter caused him to crack a gummy smile.

“This is how I know I love you, Cas. Even your farts are adorable!”, Dean playfully shoved Castiel and then quickly pulled the covers over his head, trapping him beneath with his own stench.

“LET ME OUT BEFORE I SMITE YOU, DEAN WINCHESTER!”, Castiel bellowed between gagging sounds. “I SWEAR I WI-”, he was cut off by Dean whipping the covers off and straddling over him. “Are you still mad?”, Dean teasingly whispered in the Seraph’s ear as he peppered teasing kisses down the sensitive patch of skin just below and down his neck. “Sad?”, kiss. “Horny?”, kiss. “Hungry?”

 Blue eyes twinkled with merriment. “I love you, Dean.”

 “I love you too, Cas.”

 “You have a strange sense of foreplay if you think trapping me under our bedding with the stench of flatulence would stir my loins.”

 “Oooo, loins. We should buy a pork loin. Makes great barbeque.”, Dean teased as he slid off and back to his side of the bed.

 “I will trust your judgment on that.”

 

Dean settled back against the headboard and held his arms open for the Angel to curl up with him again. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Cas. Your car is a lady and I promise to worship at her feet.”

 “I’d rather you stay here and just hold me until you go to sleep.”

 “You got it.”

 “And let me heal your black eye?”

 “I let you fix my jaw. Don’t push it, Cas.”


End file.
